


Crossroads

by Luthien



Series: Author's Favourites [3]
Category: Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien/pseuds/Luthien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alicia’s marriage ends not with the obvious bang of more than a year ago but with a whimper that nobody notices. Not even her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SummerRed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerRed/gifts).



> 1\. Thanks to Cathexys for fantastic brainstorming and beta, and to Kai, Nym & Telanu for suggestions and cheer-leading.
> 
> 2\. Dialogue and events in the opening two scenes of the story are taken directly from episodes 2x08 "On Tap" and 2x09 "Nine Hours". The story may not make a lot of sense if you haven't seen these episodes.

Alicia’s marriage ends not with the obvious bang of more than a year ago but with a whimper that nobody notices. Not even her.

Peter is the farthest thing from her mind right now. She stares at the disc as it whirls in the player. What is Will talking about? ‘She’ was at her husband’s press conference so he left a message? _Two_ messages? He’s talking about her, about them – but he can’t be. He didn’t phone back. He didn’t leave a second message.

She rushes forward, getting as close as possible so that she doesn’t miss a single word of the recording. And of course that’s when the phone tap cuts out. She waits impatiently. More than impatiently. Every moment of the thirty second break in the recording feels like another year off her life. She’s hot, the flush going right through her body and leaving her skin tingling like she’s got pins and needles all over. And then it starts up again. Wade’s voice, again, telling Will to… to go to her and tell her. So why didn’t he? Why didn’t he come to her? Why didn’t he say something? Anything.

There’s Will’s voice again now. Finally. She remembers to breathe again, until he says: “I’m done. I’m over it. And that’s good.”

Alicia’s numb. Frozen. All that heat has turned to ice in an instant. But Will’s still talking. “If I weren’t her boss and she weren’t married then we’d be having a different conversation. But she’s right not to phone, and I’m good with that.”

Alicia rushes out of the dingy, claustrophobic little room and up the stairs. Air, she needs air. She stops once she gets out into the corridor, faceless people passing her by as she leans back shakily against the hand rail at the top of the stair well and gets out her phone. The first message – the only message – is still saved in her voice mail, 123 days later. She’s rarely replayed it in all that time, but she hasn’t been able to resist torturing herself just a little by looking at it each day, sitting there so innocently next to messages from Zach and Grace, from Peter and Kalinda, and work, work and more work.

She listens to it now, just in case she somehow hasn’t memorized it completely accurately. _I’m your boss, you’re my employee._ It’s not a surprise to hear him say that, but this time it resonates in a way it hasn’t before. Will keeps saying that. He said almost the exact same thing in the recorded conversation with Wade. It seems to be his fallback position. But if he really believes that – truly believes that – why did he bother calling back at all? It’s a question she can’t stop asking herself as she leaves the building. The world passes in a blur. She’s not sure how she gets back to the office, just that she does.

She sits back in her chair, looking through the glass at the world of the office beyond her little corner, twisting the ring on her third finger absently. Apparently absently, to anyone who might be looking right now.

“Bad time?” Kalinda asks, hesitantly, from the chair beside her.

Alicia quirks a tiny, humorless smile, wondering just exactly what her face must look like right now. That’s the first time she can ever remember Kalinda displaying the slightest uncertainty about engaging her in conversation.

She doesn’t reply. ‘Bad’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Will walks into view. He’s on the phone. That’s what he would have looked like, he would have looked just like that when…

He puts the phone down. He’s talking to Blake now. Talking, always talking, but never waiting to hear what she has to say. No, that’s unfair. It’s also untrue. The way he listens – really listens – is one of the things she’s always liked about him. He’d listened when she told him she needed a plan. He’d listened then, and rejected the idea. He’d walked away. Or so she had thought.

He walks away now. She knows what she has to do.

She moves through the corridors as if she’s in a dream. Will’s office is just over there. Will’s sitting there in one of the leather-covered arm chairs, head bent over something in his lap as he writes. He’s the only real thing in the whole place.

And then a hand touches her shoulder, shaking her awake. It’s Julius. He’s talking to her, smiling. Something about a subpoena. He’s congratulating…

Will’s office is just over there. She walks the last few steps to the door, and knocks. He lifts his head. This is her moment. This is her chance, finally, to say what she wants to say, to be heard.

She doesn’t know where to start. She manages to get out a few disjointed words, half a sentence. Then: “I need to ask you a question,” she says in a rush.

Will motions for her to continue. She takes a deep breath and-

“I hate your towels,” whatshername – Tammy – declares as she bursts out of Will’s bathroom. “Oh, hey. What’s up?” she adds as she notices Alicia.

The dream shatters, and the moment is gone, just like that. Alicia smiles, says some polite nothing – she has no clear idea exactly what - makes an excuse to leave, and flees sedately down the corridor back to her own office.

It’s probably for the best, she tells herself. He’s her boss, she’s his employee. He’s no longer available. And she’s still married. Officially.

But she can’t quite silence the little voice inside, the one that keeps asking ‘what if’.

***

Afterwards, the world of work lurches back into its rightful place, front and center. That’s only during business hours, true, but those keep getting longer and longer. She tries to only work late on urgent cases, but of course that’s all of them. And every day she comes home to Zach and Grace, the best part of her life, always, and to Peter. To Peter’s campaign, anyway.

With work and family life consuming her whole between them, it’s easy not to dwell on the phone conversation that never was. Easy not to think about it at all. Almost.

One week passes. Two. She’s at work till late on the Friday, finalizing Carter Wright’s appeal, and when at last she gets home it’s not long before she falls gratefully into bed.

She wakes disturbed, short of breath. The dream’s still playing like a series of snapshots in her head. Herself and Will, doing things together that they’ve never done. But maybe…

There’s a knock on the bedroom door, and the day begins. A while after that, there’s a phone call – and then all hell breaks loose. Work takes center stage yet again, as they race against the deadline to – maybe, perhaps, if they’re thorough enough and all the stars align just right – save a man’s life.

Kalinda arrives. With the apartment full of people – Zach, Grace, Grace’s friend, Peter’s people preparing him for his TV debate, Jackie, and the list goes on – Alicia and Kalinda wind up working in the bedroom, papers spread out the width of the bed.

“You’ve been different lately,” Kalinda says when Alicia decides it’s time they took a break.

Alicia should have expected the not-quite-question. If there’s something there to be noticed, Kalinda always sees it.

“Life’s been playing tricks on me lately and I think it’s best not to take it seriously,” Alicia says, after going to the kitchen to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts in the guise of getting drinks.

She evades the rest of the conversation that might have followed pretty neatly, she feels. She hits the ball back in Kalinda’s court, asks about Blake. She actually gets a sort of answer, much to her shock.

Then Kalinda’s phone rings, and work takes them over again. Compared with the life and death situation they’re holding in their hands right now, any other might-have-beens pale into insignificance. Kalinda leaves to track down the expert witness at the airport, and Alicia keeps working through the paperwork on the bed. A while later, she turns on the bedroom TV and Peter’s debate provides a not entirely irrelevant soundtrack to the proceedings. Saving a man’s life is the most important thing right now. It’s the only important thing.

But later still, as she updates Will on the current situation, with Peter on mute in the background , she finds herself broaching the idea that they might talk, properly, some time.

“We need a moment. Just… a moment when things don’t seem so… all over the place,” she says, coloring her words with a question.

“That’s probably not now,” Will says, and Alicia can hear the rueful grin in his voice.

She agrees. That moment’s definitely not now. She doesn’t know if it will ever arrive. He’s her boss, she’s his employee. And she’s still married. Officially, at least.

***

Things continue on in the usual way for the next few weeks. Peter’s campaign gathers momentum following the unexpected boost from the TV debate. Grace starts praying for them all on a regular basis even when her friend Shannon’s nowhere to be seen. That worries Alicia more than if Zach had defied her and gotten that earring he still keeps trying to get her to agree to.

And in the middle of it all, Alicia and Will are working around the clock on the Fern Pharmaceuticals case. It’s late, and they’re the only two left in the office. There’s no beer and pizza this time, though, as there have been at times in the past. First at Georgetown as freshmen, a million years ago, when they studied late together the night before exams. (Will because he invariably left everything to the last minute; Alicia because too much study was barely enough. God, she was so ridiculously conscientious.) And then, more recently, back before the call that didn’t happen, when there was a warmth between them that’s been – mostly – lacking since. In fact, Will’s quieter than usual tonight. Withdrawn, even.

He’s sitting in one of his leather armchairs when Alicia taps gently on the open office door. He looks up sharply from reading the papers in his lap and Alicia can’t stop herself flashing back to another time when she surprised him just like this. He looks not just withdrawn but drawn, tonight. His cheekbones and jaw have taken on a sharper look, and his mouth seems pinched. He doesn’t look quite like himself at all.

She’s intending to tell him that she’s leaving now, unless there’s anything else he needs her to check before morning. Instead, she asks, “Will? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Why?” he raps out.

“N-nothing,” Alicia replies, taken aback. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I just wanted to let you know that I’m all done with the results of the background check – there was nothing new that we can use – so unless there’s anything else…?”

“No,” Will says. “I think it’s time to call it a night. You go home. To your family,” he adds, and his lips twist on the last word.

They share a long look.

“Look, Alicia, I’m sorry,” Will says. “I’ve got something on my mind, something that happened on the weekend. I really wasn’t expecting it, but I shouldn’t have let it impinge on my work – on _our_ work.” He looks… not softer, exactly, never that. But warmer, much more the Will she knows, the Will she’s never been able not to like.

This time they share a smile. Just a little one.

And then Alicia goes home to her family. If she spends most of the drive home wondering just what Will’s got on his mind, well, she doesn’t really expect that she’ll ever find out the answer.

The answer finds her, instead, the very next week. She’s waiting to pick up Zach and Nisa, his ‘study partner’ after a basketball game - despite his protests that she _really_ didn’t need to. The wind is icy cold and the sky is threatening rain, so she’s waiting just inside the main doors, stamping her feet as they start to thaw after the walk from the car. The game’s just finished and the first trickle of people have started making their way out. To Alicia’s surprise, one of them turns out to be whatshername. Tammy.

Alicia doesn’t have an opinion about Tammy. She’s been very careful about that, because she suspects that if she did allow herself to have an opinion she wouldn’t like her very much. At all.

“Hey,” Tammy says. She looks a little tired, or at least much less breezy than Alicia remembers. “You here with Will?” she asks.

Alicia blinks in surprise. “Er, no,” she says. “I’m here to pick up my son and his friend.”

“Oh,” Tammy says, managing to lade the single syllable with layers of inflection. “Well, tell Will good night from me, if you ‘just happen’ to run into him.”

“I really don’t think I’ll be seeing him tonight. I didn’t even know he was here,” Alicia points out. “But wouldn’t you rather tell him yourself, in person?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Tammy says. “We broke up.”

“Oh,” Alicia says. She bites down on her lip, shocked at the fierce wave of exhilaration that runs through her, unbidden. And then, belatedly, she adds, “I’m sorry.”

Tammy shrugs. “I told him all along not to fall in love with me.”

Alicia has no idea what to say in response to that. She feels hot and cold all at once.

“Well, good night, then,” Tammy says.

“Good night,” Alicia echoes, but Tammy’s already hurrying away.

Alicia just stands there, staring after her amid the sea of people streaming out the door to their cars.

“Mom!” That’s Zach’s voice. Alicia turns, waving and smiling, shifting gears without a hitch.

Zach and Nisa are exhilarated after the excitement of a close game. They tell her all about it, talking over the top of each other in confusing but enthusiastic detail, as she leads them to where she parked the car. She makes sure that Zach and Nisa are safely ensconced in the back, and then she gets into the car, turns on the ignition, and backs out of the parking space. As she drives home, her hands are numb against the steering wheel, and not from the cold outside.

Life closes in again, and Alicia lets it. This time, though, she knows she can’t use it as an excuse. This time she has to face some facts.

Later, after she’s run Nisa home, checked that Grace has finished her homework, read through some case law that might or might not be useful for the Fern Pharmaceuticals case, and left the hallway light on for Peter, who’s out late at a function, she finally shuts the bedroom door against the world. Now she has a chance to sit back – quite literally, against the pillows – and think about what Tammy told her. And about how she felt when Tammy told her.

So, Will’s available again now. But pining for Tammy. Apparently. And Alicia’s still married, in fact if not in deed. And Will’s still her boss.

Alicia doesn’t want to be the sort of woman who goes from one man to another, always lining up the next ride before she jumps ship. Her own mom is too much like that for Alicia’s comfort. She’s always sworn she’d never do that to her kids, never do what her own parents did to Owen. And to her. She’s always believed that nothing would swerve her from that path.

But then, she always believed that Peter would be as faithful as she is, too. She always believed that their marriage would remain rock solid because they both valued it and the life they’d built together too much to do otherwise.

She was wrong.

Which is not an excuse to match Peter in faithlessness now, or ever. It’s not a reason to leave, in itself, either – any more than finding out that Will is single again is a reason in itself to ditch so much that she held dear for too many years. Or any more than finding out that he left that second message on her phone the night that Peter launched his campaign.

But she can’t deny the way she felt tonight, so briefly and yet so intensely. The feeling was as strong as the day she found out about that second call from Will.

Shock. Disbelief. Exhilaration. She felt all of those things that day, and again tonight in something like the reverse order. It wasn’t just the idea of Will, of Will and herself… of the two of them being a real option. It was the concept of the option itself. It was the idea that she didn’t have to _settle_ for what her life had become. That she really did have a choice. She has to admit that much if she’s going to be honest with herself at last, to be analytical instead of just letting herself continue to be buffeted by unexplored and unacknowledged emotions.

A choice. That’s the first and best thing that Will’s done for her, though he probably doesn’t even know it. He lifted the weight from her shoulders and the blinkers from her eyes and allowed her to see, to really see, for the first time.

If she’s being honest with herself – and she is, she really is – that moment when she listened to Will talk about the message he’d left her was also the first moment that her marriage really was over. She didn’t even think about Peter until much later. That says it all. It’s evidence, a watertight case in the realm of Alicia-being-completely-honest-with-herself, though it wouldn’t hold up in court.

So, what should she do next? What will she do next?

Alicia sighs, gets up off the bed and goes into the bathroom to clean her teeth. She stares at her reflection in the mirror. Mrs. Florrick stares back. She can barely remember the girl who was Alicia Cavanaugh. She doesn’t think she can be her again. But she can’t be Mrs. Florrick anymore, either. She’ll just have to work out how to be some new, different Alicia as she goes along.

She goes back into the bedroom, stares at the bed – it’s ridiculously large for just one person – and then flops back down against the pillows so that at least she doesn’t have to keep looking at it.

Leaving, as in actually moving out, isn’t an option right now. Not right in the middle of Peter’s campaign. She owes him that much. And as for Will, well, he’s still her boss, even if he weren’t pining for Tammy. Her exhilaration had turned to shock at that point in the conversation with Tammy – hot turning to cold in an instant, all over again.

But is he pining for her? Tammy said… What were her exact words? That she’d told Will not to fall in love with her, implying that he’d done so and so Tammy had broken up with him. But she hadn’t actually said that that was the reason why. If Tammy were a witness in court, Alicia would have been like a terrier in pursuit of those words, chasing her for clarification.

Or, alternatively, she could just ask Will how he feels and what he wants. They really need to have that conversation. Or they would, if he were no longer her boss, and she were no longer his employee. But that’s one piece of the equation that Alicia can’t see a way out of right now. Her family needs her income, and she needs to work, for reasons other than just as a means of support. Maybe at the end of this campaign Peter will be State’s Attorney again. And maybe not. Whatever happens, she’s going to need to keep her job, or at least _a_ job, and right now that means her job at Lockhart, Gardner  & Bond.

The conversation she needs to have with Will is going to have to wait. She sighs. The conversation she needs to have with Peter, on the other hand…

***

It doesn’t go well. Alicia hadn’t expected that it would. Peter fights her on it, every step of the way – right up until she offers to stay until the end of the campaign. He changes subtly then. There’s a little more assurance about him, and he starts trying persuasion instead of arguments.

Alicia wonders if he’s always been this obvious. She knows him well, better than anyone, but she doesn’t remember him putting the moves on her with so little finesse before. He must really be desperate. It’s strangely touching, in a not-going-to-change-her-decision-in-the-slightest kind of way.

They part that night without really resolving very much, apart from agreeing that things will stay as they are – on the surface at least – until after the election is over. Alicia can tell that Peter thinks he’ll be able to get her to change her mind in the meantime. She doesn’t have the energy to disabuse him of that idea tonight, and besides, it’s easier to let him think what he wants. Sooner or later he’ll have no choice but to face reality.

***

It’s strangely anti-climactic at work the next day. Alicia continues her preparation for the pharmaceuticals case, just like yesterday. The office is a hive of activity, just like yesterday and every other day. Kalinda comes into Alicia’s office, just like every other day since Alicia started working here, perches on the edge of Alicia’s desk, and says:

“You’re different. What’s happened?”

Alicia looks up over her computer screen, eyebrows raised. “Excuse me?”

Kalinda raises her own eyebrows right back at her. “Don’t play all innocent. Something happened. You’re all… I don’t know. Different.”

“Different,” Alicia repeats. “Different from what?”

“Different from the way you’ve been lately. I don’t know. There’s a look in your eyes today. Not happy, not exactly. But more… certain, maybe. “

“Certain?” Alicia says. “What does ‘certain’ look like?”

“Like you right now. Exactly the same as the look on your face when you walked in through the office doors this morning.” Kalinda helps herself to Alicia’s visitor’s chair without being invited, and sits. “So, what happened? Did you finally talk to Will?”

“No.” Alicia shakes her head and looks down at the files on the desk in front of her.

“But you talked to someone.” It’s not a question.

Alicia closes her eyes briefly, lets out a long breath, and looks up. “I’ve decided to leave Peter. For good. But not yet. No one knows – and no one’s going to know. Until the campaign’s over.” Her voice turns steely with warning on those last few words.

Kalinda isn’t fazed. “Naturally,” she says calmly. And then, with a tiny, mischievous smile, she asks, “So what are you going to do about Will?”

“We’ll have that talk. _After_ the campaign is over. “ Alicia nods her head decisively. She picks up a file. “So, was there anything else?”

“As a matter of fact, there was.” Kalinda’s smile turns predatory. “Guess who just turned up dead in Cleveland?”

Alicia’s eyes go wide. “Who?”

“Would you believe the former chief accountant of Fern Pharmaceuticals?”

Alicia stares at her for a second. Then she gets up, shuts the office door, and turns to face Kalinda. “Tell me more,” she says.

***

They win the Fern Pharmaceuticals case. This doesn’t come as a great surprise. They pretty much had it in the bag once they uncovered the dead accountant’s laptop and with it the second set of books he’d been keeping at the behest of the president of the company.

Their client shakes them both by the hand, repeatedly, a look of stunned relief in his eyes. His wife races up, and flings herself into his arms. Will discreetly leaves them to it and turns to Alicia. “Good work,” he says with a smile.

“Thank you. “ Alicia smiles back, and starts gathering up her things.

“Coffee?” Will suggests.

“Why not?” Alicia agrees.

They wind up in a café a couple of blocks from the courthouse – just far enough not to be one of the usual haunts of every lawyer in Chicago.

They discuss the case for a while, until their coffee arrives. Alicia opens a sachet of sweetener and pours the whole lot into the very center of the froth on top of her cappuccino.

Will grins. “You still do that.”

“What?”

“Wait for the sugar to slowly subside beneath the surface instead of just stirring it in straight away.”

Alicia grins sheepishly. “I suppose I do.”

They both go quiet then.

Will looks down at his coffee, stirs it, looks up again. “Alicia,” he says, sounding more hesitant than she’s heard him in years. Maybe even decades. “We never found the right time for that talk. That talk that you wanted.”

“No.” Alicia looks down at her own coffee. All the sweetener’s fallen in and left a hole in the froth. “Will I- Now’s not the right time, either.”

“You’re sure?” Will asks.

“No,” Alicia says honestly. “I just… There are things I can’t talk about right now. I want to, but I promised I’d wait.”

Will’s eyes narrow. He looks suddenly a lot like he does in a courtroom. “Are we talking about Peter here? Is this a promise that you made to Peter?”

“Yes,” Alicia says. And then: “I never got that voicemail message. The second one you left the night that Peter launched his campaign for State’s Attorney.”

Will’s eyes narrow. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He swallows. “Alicia,” he says thickly. “What…? How…?”

“It doesn’t matter how I found out you’d left it, just that I did. Find out, I mean. I still don’t know exactly what you said.”

“That’s what you’ve been wanting to talk about these past weeks?” Will asks.

Alicia nods. “Ever since that day in your office during the Wade case. But then there was Tammy and…” Alicia shrugs.

“She came out of my bathroom,” Will says slowly. “You were going to ask then?” He shakes his head. “Our timing’s always kind of sucked, hasn’t it?”

“So, you’re not in love with her?” Alicia asks, trying hard to sound nonchalant.

“With Tammy? No,” Will says. It’s a firm denial. There’s nothing equivocal about it.

“It’s just, she told me. I ran into her last week, and she said that she’d always told you not to fall in love with her.”

Will grimaces. “I didn’t,” he says. “But I think maybe one of us got in deeper than they intended to.”

“I see,” Alicia says, and she does. She almost feels sorry for Tammy. Almost.

She stirs her coffee, finally, and looks up again to find Will watching her face. He’s watching so intently that Alicia ends up looking down at her coffee again.

“So where does that leave us?” he asks quietly. “What do you want, Alicia?”

She bites her lip. “I want… for things to be different.” She looks up properly, looks him in the eye. “I want us to have that talk.”

“This isn’t it?” Will asks.

“Not quite. Not yet.”

“Could we at least call it a preliminary negotiation?”

Alicia considers that as Will keeps on watching her. “We could call it that,” she agrees.

“So should we make a date – call it an appointment, if you want – for the day after the election?”

“We should. Make it, and call it a date,” Alicia says.

“Okay, then,” Will says, sitting back in his seat. “Okay.”

They share a smile. Alicia has a feeling it could go on for quite a while, but a moment later the waitress comes past, glaring in a way that makes it clear she disapproves of the way they’re ignoring their coffee and letting it go cold.

Will rolls his eyes at her departing back, and Alicia claps her hand over her mouth to stop herself bursting out laughing. Her response is mostly nerves, she’s well aware of that. But Will’s always been able to make her laugh, in a way that reminds her of the girl called Alicia Cavanaugh. Maybe there’s still a small part of that Alicia inside somewhere after all.

***

Eli Gold is waiting in her kitchen when Alicia gets home.

“Mr. Gold,” Alicia says with a resigned smile.

“Coffee?” he says, holding up the pot.

“No, thank you.” Alicia puts down her briefcase and her handbag. “Am I allowed to ask why you’re offering me coffee in my own home? Shouldn’t you be in the other room with Peter?”

“Peter doesn’t need me right this second. Well, that’s not true. He always needs me. But he can do without me for a minute. Or maybe even two.” He tilts his head to one side, apparently considering the matter. “We need to talk,” he adds, most of the playfulness leaving his voice. He motions for Alicia to take a seat at the kitchen counter. Alicia doesn’t point out that he’s doing it again, taking charge in _her_ home. Instead, she gives him another resigned smile, and sits.

Eli pours coffee for them both and sits down beside her.

“Did you know that Diane Lockhart is planning to break away and start her own firm?” he says without preamble.

Alicia blinks. “No, I… I didn’t. Are you sure your information’s correct?”

“Very sure. The source was impeccable.”

“That’s… “

“Yes, isn’t it?” he agrees. “So what are you planning to do about it?”

“Do about it? Me?” Alicia holds out her hands helplessly. “Nothing. There’s nothing I can do about it. I’m just a second year associate.”

“Yes, but you get to decide if you want to stay where you are, or go with Diane.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Alicia begins.

“You get to decide because I’m asking you – and Diane asked me to continue as her client.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

Alicia reaches for the coffee, grateful for the distraction it provides. It’s dark and bitter, not nearly sweet enough for her taste. Her mind races. Alicia’s never thought of a career away from Lockhart, Gardner & Bond. Her gut reaction is to take the path of loyalty, always, in anything. But if Diane does this there will be no more Lockhart, Gardner & Bond. And the offer’s tempting in a way that Eli can’t imagine. If she goes with Diane, Will won’t be Alicia’s boss any more. She won’t be his employee.

“When is all this going to happen?” she asks.

“Soon. Ish. Not quite yet.”

“Can I wait until after the campaign’s over before I make a decision?”

“I wouldn’t leave it that long if I were-“

“Mr. Gold: yes or no?”

“All right. Yes. But if Diane ends up making her move before then, you’ll need to decide immediately. And of course I don’t even need to say that none of this goes any further – in any direction – until after it’s official.”

“Of course,” says Alicia.

Eli gets to his feet. “I’m glad we’ve had this little chat,” he says, picking up his coffee. “Now I’d better go see what your husband’s been getting up to in my absence.”

“Can I offer you some cake to go with the coffee, Mr. Gold? Maybe some cookies?” Alicia asks with an almost innocent smile.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Florrick. I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.” And then, with a slightly mocking little smile, he disappears into the back bedroom to talk to Peter.

***

More weeks pass. Wendy Scott-Carr withdraws from the race for State’s Attorney, in a move that’s just as gracious and just as calculated as everything else she’s done in the course of the campaign. Peter chortles at the TV as he watches her make the announcement and listens to her talk about ‘next time.’

Alicia wonders how Eli Gold managed to pull it off. “And then there were two,” she says as she passes through the room.

On the personal front, Peter’s been in a state of denial since the night she told him she planned to put an end to their marriage once his campaign was over. He’s not trying to win her over; he’s trying to lull her into a… not a false sense of security, but more an actual one. He seems to want things between them to feel so comfortable and familiar that leaving won’t be worth the bother. Except for the fact that they’re still sleeping in separate rooms, it’s as if the past year and a half and more never happened – at least in Peter’s mind.

Grace isn’t seeing as much of Shannon now as she was a month or two ago. This is cold comfort to Alicia, since Shannon’s influence seems to have spread out in all directions and taken on a life of its own. Alicia’s almost positive that Grace has developed a routine of praying five times a day. At least, all the available evidence that Alicia’s put together points to that. A small part of her wants to point out tartly that this is Christianity, not Islam, but a larger part of her – the good mom part – keeps her silence. For now.

And back at Lockhart, Gardner & Bond, things are pretty much as normal, even though Alicia knows there have to be rumblings beneath the surface. Maybe Will smiles at her a little more than he used to but Alicia’s careful to keep the returned smiles and looks to a minimum. She has no desire to be more conspicuous than she already is.

She’s tried to give Will a hint, several times, about the fork in the road that’s waiting for the firm just up ahead. She’s tried to find a way to do it without actually breaking Eli’s confidence, but she hasn’t managed to get through to him that something’s up, something big. Every time she brings up the subject of the future, Will thinks she’s alluding to something more personal, and Alicia’s getting close to wanting to bang her head against a brick wall for some light relief.

It all feels like the restless quiet before the storm.

***

The storm breaks, as it was always, inevitably, going to, on election day. Alicia tries to focus on the background work for her latest case, but she’s also keeping one eye on the news websites and their predicted outcomes. They all seem to agree that it’s going to “come right down to the line”, “be line ball” or just “really, really close.”

She’s been at work over an hour and still hasn’t covered much ground with the case when Kalinda wanders into her office.

“So,” Kalinda says, leaning back against the doorway. “Election day.”

Alicia sits back from the screen in relief. “Yes,” she says.

“They say it’s going to be close.”

“Yes.”

“Today could be a turning point. For all sorts of things.”

“It could be.”

Kalinda walks over to the desk, and leans down until her lips are right by Alicia’s ear. “Which way are you going to jump?” she whispers.

Alicia doesn’t leap out of her chair, though it’s a close thing. Instead, she turns her head to face Kalinda and says as calmly as she can, “I’m not planning to jump anywhere. And do you think maybe you could drop the cryptic utterances, at least for today? I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Kalinda regards her with distant sympathy. “I wasn’t trying to be cryptic. This is a day of choices. And not just for you.”

“You’ve heard something,” Alicia says.

“I hear lots of things.”

Alicia frowns at her.

“Well, I do.” Kalinda shrugs. “That’s not being cryptic. That’s just a statement of fact. And like I said: today is a day of choices for a lot of people.”

“If that’s the case, do you know which way _you’re_ going to jump?” Alicia asks.

Kalinda just smiles mysteriously, and wanders out of the room again.

Alicia doesn’t see Kalinda for the rest of the day. She also doesn’t see Will, either, but that, at least, is something she was expecting. He’s going to be tied up in court all day.

Eventually she gives up on work without having anything much to show for her day in front of the computer screen, and goes home to get ready to play the dutiful wife one last time.

***

They arrive at campaign headquarters and are immediately besieged by a couple of TV reporters and accompanying camera crews, wanting to know how Peter rates his chances.

“I’m the underdog in this race,” Peter says, flashing his teeth in a quick smile. “I’m under no illusions about that, but I’m still quietly confident, as I’ve been all along. But now it’s all over and we just have to await the people’s verdict. Thank you.” He nods and smiles and steers Alicia inside.

The room is buzzing with people, most of whom are clustered around computer screens or keeping a close eye on the large TV on the wall. Most of them are also simultaneously on their phones. Eli spots them as soon as they arrive, ends his current call, and hurries over.

“The latest figures are very encouraging,” he tells Peter before Peter even has time to get the question out.

“Do you think we could have a result tonight?” Peter asks. He has that intense, speculative look in his eyes that Alicia’s learned to be wary of.

“It’s early days yet,” Eli cautions. “But if these trends continue the way they’re going right now – then yes.”

“Show me the breakdown,” Peter says, and lets Eli take him away to one of the computer screens.

Alicia doesn’t go with them. Instead, she looks around for a drink. It’s going to be a long night, no matter what the result is.

***

Partway through the evening, Eli corners her. He looks disapprovingly at the drink in her hand.

“It’s still the first one,” Alicia tells him dryly.

“Good,” Eli says. “You need to able to think clearly.”

She nods. “It’s all right, Mr. Gold. You don’t need to tell me that.”

“No, I don’t mean that you need to be able to think clearly in general – though that’s obviously something I’m in favor of. What I mean is that you need to be able to think clearly right now. I just got a call from Diane Lockhart-“

“Asking which way I’m planning to jump,” Alicia finishes for him, nodding slowly as the light dawns. Of course Kalinda had known just what was going down.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Eli agrees. “So: which way _are_ you going to jump?”

“I-“ But whatever else Alicia might have said is interrupted by a shout from the other side of the room. “Mr. Gold? I have Glenn Childs’ chief of staff on the phone.”

Eli gives Alicia a look that says that this isn’t over, and then he hurries off. A moment later Peter’s talking into the phone, and then everyone settles in to wait for Glenn Childs’ concession speech.

Peter finds her then. “Time for us to stick together like glue,” he tells her.

Alicia knows the drill.

Events pass in a blur after that, though it’s hard to tell if the world has sped up to previously uncharted levels of hyperactivity, or slowed down to the point where every tiny action is just one more part of the agonizing wait.

But at last the moment so many of them have been waiting for finally arrives. Peter comes out to the podium to make his victory speech and a mighty cheer goes up in the room. Alicia and Eli wait in the wings as the cameras flash, and everything else is bathed in the unnatural brightness of the TV lights.

“So, did you end up deciding which way you’re going to jump?” Eli asks quietly.

“I-“

“-couldn’t have done it without my wonderful wife, Alicia,” Peter’s saying, and now he’s holding out his hands to her. It’s like a replay of the night he announced his candidacy.

“Go on,” Eli urges. “Our conversation can wait a few more minutes. This can’t.” He grins. “At least I don’t have to push you out on stage this time.”

Alicia freezes, as the penny suddenly drops. The night that Peter launched his campaign, she’d been waiting in the wings, standing next to Eli, talking to Will on the phone.

She’d been standing next to Eli. And then… And then what?

Treat it like a case, she tells herself. Look at the evidence. _Mrs. Florrick? This is very important. I need you to focus on exactly what happened that night. You were standing in the wings, waiting to go on stage. Your phone rang. You saw that it was Will Gardner calling. Then Eli Gold took the phone from you and pushed you out onto the stage where your husband was waiting for you. Later, when you got your phone back from Mr. Gold, there was a single new voicemail message waiting. Is that correct?_

Yes, that was what had happened. She’d gotten her phone back and seen the message. One message, when there should have been – there _had_ been – two.

“Go on. Don’t make a liar out of me,” Eli says, and pushes her out to where Peter’s waiting. Peter takes her hand and raises it in the air. Victory.

_A liar_ , Alicia thinks numbly. Yes, that’s what he is. A liar by omission. And a thief.

And then the moment crowds in around them – people crowd in around them – and Alicia plasters a smile on her face: the perfect smile for the perfect political wife. For one night only.

After that the party really kicks off.

Later, after the champagne corks have been popped and Peter – they – have been congratulated by literally everyone in the room, Alicia finds a chair in a quiet corner and waits for Eli to come find her. She doesn’t have to wait long.

He smiles slightly as he approaches her. The smile seems friendly, if a little calculating. It probably even is friendly, on a certain level. But there are always, _always_ angles when dealing with Eli Gold. She shouldn’t have let herself forget that, ever. It’s in his interests for her marriage to be preserved. And he’d rather - much rather – that she were right away from Will, that’s very clear. Alicia smiles. She’ll be happy to oblige him on that last point.

“Does that smile mean you’ve made a decision I’ll be happy with?” Eli asks as he sits down in the chair beside her.

“I think you could say that,” Alicia agrees. “I’ll go with Diane, and you.”

He doesn’t answer right away, but instead looks searchingly at her for a moment.

“What?” Alicia asks, frowning a little.

“That was easy. Why was that so easy?”

“Is it so hard to believe that our interests might coincide, Mr. Gold? They have before.”

Instead of making some carefully flippant remark, his gaze sharpens even more. “What’s going on?”

“Why nothing, Mr. Gold. I’m giving you what you want. I thought you’d be happy about that.” Alicia sips her champagne.

He keeps looking at her as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls Diane.

Alicia raises her glass.

***

The proverbial really hits the fan the next day.

First, there’s work. Diane’s palace coup is carried out swiftly, with surgical precision. In no time at all, Lockhart has been neatly severed from Gardner and Bond – or perhaps it’s the other way round.

Kalinda appears as Alicia’s in the act of packing up her things.

“So, you finally decided which way to jump. When it comes to this, anyway,” Kalinda observes.

“So, are you jumping, too?” Alicia asks. “What I mean is, are we jumping in the same direction?”

Kalinda nods. “For now, anyway. Blake has a history with Derrick, and with Will. It was the obvious fit.”

“For now,” Alicia adds.

“Exactly.” Kalinda looks around the room, taking in the empty spaces. “So is this the only jump you’re going to make this week?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Alicia says.

Kalinda considers her carefully for a moment. “Yes, you are,” she says. “You’re certain.”

Kalinda’s barely out the door when Will storms in to Alicia’s office. There’s a terrible look on his face, one that Alicia’s never seen before: a mix of accusation and betrayal, and even a touch of hurt.

“You should’ve told me,” he says, not bothering to sit down.

“I couldn’t!” Alicia says. “It wasn’t my secret to tell. I tried to give you a hint, though. More than once.”

“You didn’t think that maybe you should have some loyalty towards me, some gratitude? I was the one who gave you a job in the first place, in case you’ve forgotten. Not Diane.”

Alicia shakes her head in frustration. “I never talked to Diane. I never talked to anyone here about what – I’d heard – might be happening.”

“So who…?” Will asks, eyes narrowing.

“A client,” Alicia says. “One I couldn’t ignore.”

Will’s eyes narrow even more. “Eli Gold,” he says.

Alicia nods.

Will lets out a long breath and lowers himself into the visitor’s chair. He still looks like he’s in the grip of some strong emotion, but the terrible, betrayed look has left him. He steeples his fingers, then rests his chin thoughtfully on them for a moment. “He wanted you to go with Diane?” he asks, feeling his way around the question.

“Partly,” Alicia says. “Not exactly. At least, I think not exactly.”

“He didn’t want you to be around me.” It’s somewhere between a question and a statement.

“I think so,” Alicia says. “At least, it’s in his interests for me not to be working for you anymore. That’s how he sees it, anyway, I’m fairly sure.”

Will’s looking at her intently again, just like that day in the café. This time Alicia doesn’t try to hide from him. She looks him straight in the eye and lets him see. “You’re no longer my boss, and I’m no longer your employee,” she says softly.

“Yeah. That’s exactly right. And the campaign’s over,” Will points out. “I think you owe me a date. We have things to discuss.”

“We do,” Alicia agrees. “But maybe not quite yet. I think… I think I need some time.” She says it hesitantly and looks away, not sure that she’s ready for whatever look is on his face.

“How much time?” he asks.

She has to look, then. To her surprise, the expression on his face is not so much resigned as determined. “Three months should do it. Maybe as much as six. I just need to-“

“Alicia,” Will says gently. “I’ve waited twenty years. I can wait a few more months.”

Alicia closes her eyes. “Thank you,” she says simply. For the first time it feels like the end just might be almost in sight.

***

The feeling buoys her along the rest of the day, until she walks in through the door of her apartment that evening.

The proverbial hits the fan for the second time that day.

It’s a long, long evening. And the days that follow are even longer.

But it’s all worth it.

***

**Epilogue**

Almost five months later, Alicia’s latest client shakes her warmly by the hand. “Thank you, Ms. Florrick. This is the best outcome I could have asked for.” He looks across the conference table at their recent adversary. “That _we_ could have asked for,” he amends.

“Yes, I agree,” the older man says. “We should have had an agreement like this drawn up properly years ago.”

“If we had, I wouldn’t have had to threaten to take you to court, Dad,” Alicia’s client points out with a rueful smile.

His father shrugs. “It’s all turned out for the best in the end. Thanks in no small part to the talents of Mr. Gardner here.”

“And Ms. Florrick,” the son counters.

The father sits up straight in his chair, starting to look belligerent. Maybe even ready for yet another round of negotiations and hard-won compromises.

“Mr. Carson,” Alicia says.

Both men turn to look at her and say ,“Yes,” at exactly the same moment.

“I just wanted to say thank you. It’s been a pleasure and a privilege to assist you in determining the future of your business.”

“But it’s time we were going,” the old man says shrewdly.

“Not at all,” Alicia assures him.

“Come on, Adam. We’d better get out of here before this pair decide to bill us for another hour of their very expensive time.”

“I don’t think another minute of conversation is going to make much difference either way, Dad,” the son suggests. But his father’s having none of it, and another minute later Alicia and Will are escorting both Carsons out to the elevator.

The elevator doors shut, and then they’re alone – if you don’t count the various employees of Gardner/Bond eyeing Alicia speculatively as they hurry past.

“Coffee?” Will suggests.

“Why not?” Alicia agrees.

They wind up seated in a café somewhere not all that far from the heart of town, where they’re served by a perpetually bad-tempered waitress.

“You’re a worthy adversary,” Will observes, as they wait for their coffee to arrive.

“And you’re surprised by this?” Alicia asks.

“No. I’ve seen you in action too many times to be surprised, but let’s just say that it was a slightly unpleasant shock to be on the receiving end for a change.”

Alicia grins, but doesn’t say anything more because at that moment their coffee arrives. Will hands her a packet of sweetener without comment before she has a chance to reach for the bowl.

“So how’ve you been?” Alicia asks as she rips open the packet, and pours it all on top of her coffee.

“Not bad. The firm’s doing… well, better than it was. We’re keeping our heads above water.” He sips his coffee. “I won’t ask how you are. I already know most of it.”

“So does the rest of Chicago,” Alicia says wryly.

“Was it worth it?” Will asks.

“Yes,” Alicia says, not pretending to misunderstand. From the look in his eyes it’s clear that he’s talking about more than just news headlines now. “It was hard, particularly at first. It took… work to get Peter to understand that he wasn’t going to change my mind.”

“And the kids?” Will asks.

“Zach’s good,” Alicia says brightly. “He’s growing up so fast, doing well at school, and he’s seeing a very nice girl. I’d have to say that he’s adapting to the changes very well.”

“And Grace?” Will asks.

“She’s…” Alicia makes a face, not quite sure how to say it.

“It’s okay. Forget I asked.”

“No, it’s not that I don’t want to talk about it,” Alicia says, shaking her head. “It’s just…” She sighs. “She’s a Goth,” she says at last.

“A what?” says Will.

“A Goth. You know, black clothes, black hair, black eye-liner – lots and lots of back eye-liner – black nail polish, black jewelry…”

“I know what a Goth is,” Will interrupts. “But Grace?”

“She wasn’t happy about her father moving out,” Alicia says with massive understatement. “So she cut her hair off, dyed it jet black, and things sort of escalated from there.”

“Grace… is a Goth,” Will says, clearly having some trouble with the concept.

“Yes. I keep telling myself that at least she’s gotten over her religious phase now,” Alicia says with a sigh. “There aren’t any other Goths at her school, so I’m hoping she’ll get tired of it soon – hopefully before the school board decides she should try a different school.”

“I’m sorry,” Will says. “The last few months have been tough. I should’ve-“

“No,” Alicia says, holding up one hand. “I’m glad you were… where you were. I needed to handle things for myself. And I did.”

“And now?” Will asks.

“Now I’m having coffee with an old friend,” Alicia says, letting the corners of her mouth curve into the beginnings of a smile.

“And that’s all?”

“He didn’t ask me for anything more than a coffee date. But I think maybe it could be more than that.”

“In time?”

“In another minute or so.”

“Another minute? What happens then?”

“That’s when I’m going to ask him if he wants to come back to my place to discuss… things,” Alicia says, trying to sound relaxed, like having a conversation like this is something she does every other day.

“To your place. “

“Yes. The kids are with their father for the weekend, so…”

“So,” Will says.

She looks up and finds him watching her with that intent look that’s stayed in her mind more clearly than almost anything else over the past months.

“So,” she says.

It’s not really a surprise when he leans toward her, cups her chin carefully with one hand, and kisses her gently on the lips.

It’s more of a surprise when she kisses him back, right there in the café, where anyone can see. She doesn’t care. Not even if it ends up on the front page of the _Sun-Times_. Or on CNN.

“You’re not my boss anymore,” she says, when at last they break apart.

“And you’re not my employee,” he says in reply, and gently strokes her cheek.


End file.
